Hematite
by Hermione-2113
Summary: My take on September 19th, 1991 - Hermione's first birthday at Hogwarts.


Summary: I was browsing through the Sorcerer's Stone timeline at the Harry Potter Lexicon, and I noticed that Hermione's first birthday at Hogwarts fell on September 19th, well before Halloween and the troll's attack. From the impression the book gives, this was a fairly miserable time for her. This story is my version of how that day went.  
  
A/n: It might seem a bit out-of-character for Hermione to refer to Harry and Ron by their last names, but I've checked the book, and not once - from the time she meets them on the train all the way up to the troll incident - does she speak to either of them by name. As they weren't exactly the best of friends during this time, it seems likely that she would call them by their surname, as, later, the Trio and Draco Malfoy address each other.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Happy birthday to me,  
  
I can't stand those three,  
  
The first two are arrogant,  
  
And the other's greasy."  
  
Hermione Granger smiled, somewhat sourly. Not at her rather feeble verse, but at what the look on any of their faces would be if they heard it. Who knows, it might even have an effect on them, she thought, then snorted. Not bloody likely. Pointing at the Pumpkin Pasty with her wand, she muttered "Incendio," and the eleven tiny candles lit themselves. The flames were blue, which she thought quite appropriate, considering her mood. Even the novelty of casting spells had worn off. With an irritated swipe of her hand, she shoved a lock of hair behind her ear, then bent over the tiny orange cake.  
  
"I wish..." she trailed off, looking through the gap in her scarlet bed hangings at the stars, framed in the window of her dorm, then extinguished the candles with a puff of breath. "I wish I could go home." Her voice broke a bit on the last word, and the tears that she'd been holding back all night finally poured out.  
  
************************Flashback************************  
  
This day had been pure hell, right from the start. She was still getting used to the Hogwarts schedule; her school at home started at eleven, and thus she entered the Great Hall each morning bereft of three hours' sleep. To top it all off, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were apparently the particular brand of perky morning people that she so hated, were even more loud and rambunctious than usual, which was saying a great deal.  
  
First class had been potions, double with the Slytherins, of course. Malfoy sniped at her across the damp dungeon for the entire hour when they were there. She'd know better than to respond, and concentrated on keeping Neville from adding too many beetle eyes to their Aging Potion. Finally, Malfoy had held his wand under his desk, pointed it at hers, and sent over a puff of wind that swept all her parchments onto the floor. She resisted hexing him, but was unable to keep from muttering under her breath, "Insufferable bastard."  
  
She had heard rumors that Severus Snape was a vampire, and maybe they were true - she didn't know. One thing was for sure - he had the hearing of a bat. As soon as the words left her mouth, he was at her table, a sneer on his face.  
  
"Language, Miss Granger. Detention, and ten points from Gryffindor."  
  
This statement earned both student and professor glares from the Pair of Prats, as she liked to refer to Potter and Weasley. As if they didn't lose twice that daily - and she, at least, made up for it with her academics.  
  
The rest of her classes had been uneventful, save for another ten points - and quite a bit of embarrassment - when she'd nodded off in Herbology. At dinner that night, she once again was forced to endure the Prats' chattering. She didn't really bother listening - she was willing to bet that the topic of discussion was either one of their nighttime excursions or Harry's appointment to the Quidditch team, and she had no interest in either.  
  
Afterwards, she headed back up to her dorm, knowing full well that she'd never get any studying done in the Common Room. The girls' dorm was nearly as bad, however, as Parvati was sitting on her bed with Lavender, gossiping. The fourth inhabitant, Ella Crockford, was at least making an effort to be quiet, but she had a fit of the hiccups, and Hermione nearly sent her to the Hospital Wing to get them fixed - the hard way.  
  
At eight, she finally gave up and headed to the library. She was able to read in relative peace for perhaps a half-hour, when she remembered her detention and began the long trek to the dungeons.  
  
Despite her haste, she was still five minutes late, and Snape took an equal number of points from Gryffindor, then set her to powdering Billywig stings.  
  
He swept out the door, apparently in as foul a mood as she was. She looked after him for a moment, then sat down at one of the tables.  
  
"This has to be the worst birthday I have ever had," she said aloud, shaking her head. She pulled a tiny mortar and pestle from her bag, tapping them quickly with her wand to restore them to full size. The Prats, she knew full well, thought she was an idiot for carrying all her books and equipment in her backpack at all times. It did put quite a bit of extra weight on her back, but this way, she was always prepared - and more often than not, it paid off.  
  
She tipped a few stings out of the jar and into her mortar, then began to methodically grind them into fine powder. Once she was sure the lumps were out, she poured the fine blue dust into the second jar, intended for this purpose. Without thinking, she reached back into the first to grab a handful, realizing her mistake only when one of the sharp spines pierced her palm.  
  
Instantly, she flew upwards, knocking back her chair and slamming her head on the ceiling of the dungeon with a force that bounced her back down, and she fell into a heap on the ground.  
  
She must have blacked out, because when she came to, she was stretched out on one of the long tables, head cushioned by her backpack and her winter robes covering her.  
  
"How on earth..." she muttered, trying to sit up - then quickly sank back, groaning, as she remembered the accident. As the memories flooded back, so did the pain, both in her pricked hand and her head. A glance at her watch told her that it was a few minutes after eleven - her detention was to have ended an hour ago. She looked guiltily over at the jar of Billywig stings, half-intending to finish the job before she left, but a fresh wave of pain in her head convinced her otherwise, and if Snape gave her another detention, so be it.  
  
She raised her head gingerly, then slid off the table, her stiff, bruised muscles making her wince as she stood. Stretching the kinks out of her legs, she headed for the door.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like hours of wandering Hogwart's darkened corridors, her footsteps seeming as loud as thunder and every shadow taking the shape of Filch looming down on her, she arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait.  
  
"You look a fright, m'dear," said the painted figure. "What's kept you out this late?"  
  
"Nothing," Hermione responded listlessly. "Pig snout."  
  
The large painting creaked open, and she crossed the mercifully deserted common room in silence, then mounted the stairs heading to her dorm.  
  
Lavender, Parvati, and Ella were fast asleep, and she shut the door softly before tiptoeing to her bed, crawling in, and pulling the curtains shut around her. It was almost midnight, she noted, opening her nightstand drawer and pulling out the last stale Pumpkin Pasty from the Hogwarts Express trolley. Might as well celebrate, she thought, with a soft, bitter laugh.  
  
************************End Flashback************************  
  
Her dry sobs finally died away, and with an angry sweep of her hand, she shoved the hard, wax-covered Pasty off the bed. Laying her head back onto her pillow, Hermione closed her eyes, trying in vain to go to sleep. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was no use. It wasn't just that her head hurt, though it did - she couldn't bear the thought of waking up tomorrow to face another day like this one.  
  
With a sigh, she reached down off the bed, digging into her backpack for the small vial of Dreamless Sleep potion that she had taking to carrying. Her hand bumped against something small and hard, and she closed her fingers around it, sitting back up on the bed. She ran her hands over it, feeling for the stopper, then froze, as she abruptly realized that this wasn't her potion at all.  
  
Groping for her wand, she muttered "Lumos", and a soft, white beam emitted from the end of it. With her other hand, she pointed it at the mysterious object.  
  
It was a necklace. A small, smoothly carved heart, suspended on a delicate silver chain. She gasped softly as her wandlight caught the shiny luster or the deep black stone. Hematite, her mind put in, quoting a passage from 'Magical Properties of Stones and Minerals':  
  
'Mental clarity, memory enhancement and technical knowledge, diminishes limitations, reduces fear and body heat, balances mind, body, and spirit, repels negativity, stone for protection and grounding, attracts love and happiness, used to treatments of cramps, blood disorders, insomnia and bone alignment. It is a rusty red when unpolished, which led to its being named from the Greek word for blood, heme.'  
  
With her first true smile of the day, she gazed at the polished heart. Hematite had always been one of her favorites - she even had a few pieces in her rock collection back home, though none so fine as this. There were no pits, dents, or flaws on the surface, which could be said about precious few examples. Running her fingers down the chain, she suddenly saw a scrap of paper tucked into the clasp. She freed it, fastening the amulet around her neck as she did. Taking a moment to glance down, and tuck the now warm stone against her chest, she unfolded the paper...and froze, stunned. There, in perfectly formed, black letters, were the two words she had been expecting least of all to see.  
  
'Happy Birthday.' 


End file.
